Tag: flash fiction

A – Z Challenge Day 3

AJ.Dixon25 Comments

Third day of the April Challenge already! Blimey, I think it ought to slow down a bit!

Today’s word was once again provided by the wonderful Kate, and the word is “CONCUBINE”. Again, this is a great suggestion and not at all what I was expecting as a prompt, but it began to spark ideas in my brain almost right away. The idea which caught the kindling was that of ancient Greece and their penchant for concubines, and I was able to coax it into a blaze.

Here’s what I was able to come up with. I hope you enjoy it.

CONCUBINE

By Adam Dixon

Cassandra stood at the foot of the marble steps leading up to the palace, closing her eyes to better feel the breeze on her skin. She tilted her head back, enjoying its cool fingers caressing her hair. It had been a long journey from Troy and she was grateful to be back on dry land. She had had some misgivings about travelling to Mycanae, and her main concern had been its queen. Queen Clytemnestra had been awaiting the return of King Agamemnon, and she would surely not be pleased to learn that her husband would be bringing home another woman. Cassandra was Agamemnon’s concubine and had borne him twin sons during the Trojan campaign, but she was essentially just a trophy. Worrying over the queen’s reaction to the news had given Cassandra dozens of sleepless nights during their voyage and she had prayed to all the gods of Olympus that they give her the courage to face her. However, to her great surprise Clytemnestra seemed to already know about her. She welcomed Cassandra to Mycanae warmly and immediately offered her a place to bathe before the feast. Cassandra had been taken aback and had declined with what she hoped was the proper degree of humility. She had remained behind as the King was escorted inside his palace, preferring to collect herself before following him.

As she stood enjoying the breeze, she began to feel as if she were being watched. She opened her eyes and saw a tall, lithe man leaning against a pillar not ten feet from where she stood, staring at her with an unsettling look on his face. Cassandra felt her skin crawl and she cleared her throat loudly before turning towards him. She did not know him, but she recognised him by his description; his cold blue eyes, hooked nose and curled blond hair marked him as Aegisthus, the former ruler of Mycenae. Cassandra wondered why he was there in the first place, since Agamemnon and his brother had jointly forced Aegisthus from the throne years before.

“Good day to you, my lord,” Casssandra said nervously, bowing her head slightly. “I do apologise, I thought I was alone.”

“No apology is necessary, my lady,” Aegisthus replied coolly, his eyes gliding along Cassandra’s hips and thighs. “I am merely taking some air before the celebrations begin. You are the King’s prize, are you not?”

Cassandra frowned and adjusted her robe. She disliked having his eyes all over her, it made her feel unclean.

“I suppose I am at that, my lord,” she answered curtly, hoping she didn’t sound too brusque. Her grip on the politics of Mycenae was slight and she didn’t know how powerful this man was. She would tread carefully.

“To the victor go the spoils,” Aegisthus quoted with a sneer. He stood up straight and flexed his fingers. Cassandra had been around soldiers enough to recognise it as a pre-combat technique, performed almost without thought.

“Tell me,” Aegisthus stepped towards Cassandra, a terrible gleam in his eyes. “Are the rumours surrounding you true? Are you truly a Seer?” Cassandra took a step backwards, moving away from the stairs and back towards the shaded garden.

“They are…my lord,” she said hesitantly. “Mother Hera gifted me with Foresight, although its usefulness has been overstated, I fear.”

“Curious…” Aegisthus took another step closer, scratching at his chin thoughtfully. “I heard that your Talent is often ignored, and at the detriment of those who do so. Is that true also?” Cassandra grew fearful at this line of questioning, and attempted to change the subject.

“So, the King prepares for his feast,” she stammered, looking down at her sandals. “It promises to be a great event, with no expenses spared by the Queen on food and wine.”

“Hmm? Oh…yes,” Aegisthus seemed irritated by the deflection. “The Queen intends to provide a welcome which the King will never forget. It will go down in history, mark my words!” He gave a low chuckle which chilled Cassandra to the bone. As she stood wondering what to say next, a Vision sprung upon her without warning. As though through a blood-tainted window, Cassandra saw the King emerging naked from his bath with Clytemnestra holding a towel nearby. As Agamemnon steps forward, Clytemnestra tosses the towel over the King’s head. The King roars in surprise, for the towel has been weighted down at its corners, blinding and trapping him. A heartbeat later, Aegisthus runs forward from behind a screen wielding a sword which he plunges into the King’s chest. Agamemnon’s screams echoed in Cassandra’s ears and the present world flashed back into sight, the Vision leaving her weak and breathless. She fell to her knees, gasping and looking up at Aegisthus in horror. The man watched her, his smiling growing ever wider as Cassandra’s fear rose like a black flower in her heart.

“Guards!” She spluttered hoarsely. “Guards, help! A traitor is among us! Protect the King!” Aegisthus descended the stairs in four quick leaps and struck Cassandra hard with his fist. She fell onto her back and the world swam as her mouth filled with blood.

“It’s too late, my little whore!” Aegisthus snarled, wiping his knuckles on his tunic. “The events are already in motion and you cannot stop them! Enjoy your last moments whilst you can, for the Queen has plans for you!” He spat in Cassandra’s face before bounding back up the stairs and disappearing into the palace.

Cassandra groaned and struggled to sit up. Her vision was blurred and her limbs were weakened from her Vision. She attempted to call the guards again, but her voice would not obey her. She wept bitterly as she realised that nobody would believe her anyway. Nobody ever believed her…

Minutes later a cry of alarm was raised within the palace, and then the fighting began.

A – Z Challenge Day 2

AJ.Dixon12 Comments

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The word for today’s story has been provided by the ever-helpful Kate. Actually, Kate has suggested a number of excellent prompts for this challenge and this will be the first in a sequence of them. The word Kate provided is “BOMBASTIC”, and I’ll admit to being  surprised and slightly disappointed to learn that it doesn’t mean “crazy”, “lively” or “wild” as I initially thought. Curse you, Mr Bean, for misleading me!

Anyway, it’s still an interesting word and I rather enjoyed the character which came to life upon my re-education. I hope you all do, too.

BOMBASTIC

By Adam Dixon

“…and I put it to you, dearest members of the public, that none of my esteemed peers would perform quite so well as I have!” The newly-crowned King Geoffrey asserted, brandishing the sleeves of his voluminous golden robe with gleeful vigour.
“Nay, but ‘tis true!” he continued, grinning from one end of his carefully-trimmed beard to the other. “’The fine body of men and women who make up the Assembly and who serve as my advisors are all able and intelligent people. Sharp of mind and keen of eye where matters of state are concerned; of this there can be no doubt! But, dear people, not one of them could perform the duties expected of a monarch with such stalwart effectiveness and practiced ease as I! ‘Tis true that I have been blessed by the gods of this world to be worthy of so lofty a duty, and in turn you are fortunate indeed to be the subjects over which I hold dominion!”
Kind Geoffrey beamed at the vast gathering of people standing before his palace. They had come to his grounds in droves following his coronation, with thousands upon thousands of them waiting to hear him speak. Rightly so, thought he! It was not every day that the common folk were graced with the attention of such a mighty and impressive figure of a man! The subjects gathered beneath him as he addressed them on his balcony would long tell the story of how they heard Good King Geoffrey speak, and their children would pass the tale on to their children and so on and so forth. King Geoffrey glowed with pride for these hypothetical offspring, and was delightfully happy for the very real men and women who were listening to him now. What a truly splendiferous day they must be having! He continued with his self-confident rhetoric for over an hour, before reaching the end of his speech.
“Sadly, dear friends, I must take my leave of you. All that is left for me to announce is that my first decree as King is to make a bold change to the face of my kingdom, to forever prove my undying loyalty towards you good people. I declare that from this day forward, I shall no longer be known as King Geoffrey, for I fear that the word “King” is rather archaic and distances the monarch from his people, but instead I shall be known as High Citizen Geoffrey, the first amongst his fellow men! Thank you, one and all, and I bid you adieu!” The ruler formerly and briefly known as King Geoffrey blew kisses to the crowd and bowed as he moved back inside, revelling in the rapturous applause he received.
“What d’you make of all that then?” A man in stained blue overalls asked, squinting at the man in the smart suit next to him. The grey-haired gentleman snorted and made a show of straightening his tie and jacket.
“Oh, more or less what I’ve come to expect,” he said with a nasal drawl. “The man is as bombastic as ever, full of wind and self-praise but little else. He’ll make an awful monarch.” The man in the overalls laughed, running a hand across his stubbly chin.
“Oh yeah, you’ve got that right, mister!” He said with a guffaw. “Makes for an amusin’ spectacle, though! High Citizen Geoffrey, may he live long and keep us all laughin’ while he does!” The two men shared a moment to appreciate the joke, as thousands of people shuffled home around them. Geoffrey watched his subjects dispersing from behind a curtain and smiled. Truly, what a magnificent day for all it had been!

A-Z Challenge Day 1

AJ.Dixon23 Comments

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The day has arrived for me to plunge headlong into the A-Z Challenge this month!

To kick things off, my first prompt has been provided by the lovely Niki, and her word is ‘ABANDONED’. Quite a powerful word right from the start and one which threw up plenty of ideas right away. Here’s what I was able to come up with.

Quick note: As the word suggests, this story leans heavily on the emotional side, so consider yourselves warned!

ABANDONED

By Adam Dixon

It was cold and wet and Jasper wanted to go home. The wind had picked up, chilling his sodden fur and making him tremble. He tugged pathetically at his lead but it had been tied securely to a fence post. He lay back down and gazed forlornly in the direction his Master had gone.
Jasper didn’t know why his Master had seen fit to leave him alone in the rain. He knew that there must be a reason for, as his Master was not an impulsive Man. Perhaps he had been BAD again…Jasper knew that he was a BAD DOG because his Master so often told him so. He wanted to be GOOD and tried to do all the things that a GOOD DOG should, but he was still BAD and his Master was angry with him an awful lot.
Perhaps this was his Punishment then? When Jasper was BAD he would often be driven from the house and be made to sleep outside. When he had been VERY BAD, like when he had accidentally knocked over the Man-Pup, he had been kicked several times and then locked outside for two days. It was his Punishment for being too big and too clumsy, and Jasper knew this well. He couldn’t help being so big, but he should be more careful, especially around the small Man-Pup.
But what had he done this time? He must have been VERY BAD to deserve this kind of Punishment! Jasper racked his brains but could not think of anything he had done recently which was especially BAD. Perhaps that was the point, and that he once he acknowledged his behaviour his Master would return and allow him to get back into the Car. Then they would drive home once more, and Jasper would be better…
By the third day Jasper was very hungry. He had been able to drink from various puddles of water due to the constant rain, but hunger was gnawing at his belly with the same level of commitment Jasper gnawed at his squeaky Toys. He looked up expectantly every time a Car approached the field, but his was never his Car and so it continued past the unhappy dog. Jasper began to whine softly. He’d be a GOOD DOG if his Master came back soon!
Later that third day, a big Car approached and stopped on the roadside, a few feet from where Jasper lay. It was not Jasper’s Car, so he remained where he was and ignored it. The doors opened and a Man and a Woman climbed out. The Man was short with black hair and a beard, and the woman was tall with blond hair and freckles. Both were dressed in dark uniforms with a blue badge across their left breast. They approached Jasper cautiously, wearing large smiles and speaking in hushed, soothing tones. They moved almost within touching distance before Jasper seemed to finally notice them and shied away, whimpering. Who were these people? Where was his Master?
The Man and Woman stopped and looked at each other. They exchanged some brief words before the Man strode back to the Car. The Woman stayed where she was, crouching in the pouring rain and smiling at Jasper.
“It’s okay, boy,” she was saying softly, looking earnestly at him. “Me and my friend are here to help you! Look at you, you poor thing! Who would leave a lovely big boy like you out here in the rain, eh?” Jasper stood as far away as his lead would allow, shivering and watching the Woman anxiously. The Woman maintained her crouch until the Man returned, carrying a large umbrella. He passed it to the Woman who opened it slowly and shimmed closer to Jasper. Jasper still trembled, but he allowed the Woman to shelter him from the rain. It felt like a very very long time since Jasper had been out of the rain. The Man and the Woman sat at the roadside, holding the umbrella over Jasper, talking to him continually. The Man went back to the Car once more to fetch a packet of biscuits.
Jasper’s ears pricked up as soon as he smelled the biscuits, but he was unsure whether or not to trust these new people. They seemed nice enough, but where was his Master? He began to whine in distress, tugging at his lead and glancing up the road.
“Come on, boy,” the Woman insisted, holding out a biscuit and blinking rainwater from her eyes. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Jasper looked at the biscuit, then up at the Woman. He took a tentative step forward, sniffing the offered treat. After another moment of hesitation, Jasper’s tongue flopped out and he stood munching with crumbs falling from his chops. The Woman whispered encouragement and offered another which Jasper accepted readily this time. Then, something happened which hadn’t occurred for three days: Jasper’s great, rope-like tail began to wag. Jasper had decided that these people were very kind and he was glad of their company. He ate biscuit after biscuit as his new friends attempted to fill his empty belly, and they patted and stroked him as he did so.
“I never get used to seein’ this kind of thing,” the Man said sadly as he closed the back of the Car. Jasper had been untied and with a lot of coaxing they had managed to get him into the vehicle. He now sat inside the Car, wagging his tail vigorously.
“Me neither, mate,” the Woman sighed, shaking rain from her hair. “But it’s a bloody good thing that someone called us. This fella wouldn’t’ve lasted much longer. C’mon, let’s get him to the shelter.”
Presently they got into the Car and began to drive away. In the back, Jasper realised what was happening and began to howl. How would he find his Master now?

April A-Z Challege: Searching for Prompts

AJ.Dixon15 Comments

 

As some of you may be aware, I am taking part in this years A-Z April Blogging Challenge.

In keeping with the theme of my blog, I have set myself the task of writing and posting a short story each day, with a word count of 500-1000 words. I know this is quite a big ask, and I am feeling quite intimidated by it to be perfectly honest, but I have committed to it now and so I’ll give it my best shot!

In my previous post, I asked some of you lovely readers for word prompts because I’d love to involve as many people as possible. So far I’ve had some quirky, baffling, intriguing and downright intimidating suggestions from the likes of Kate, Niki, Viki and my partner and I intend do go with all of them. Thanks so much for those, ladies!  I’d love to know if anyone else could suggest some words for me to use now that the fated starting point is approaching.

My words so far:

A for ABANDONED

B for BOMBASTIC

C for CONCUBINE

D for DRAGOON

E for EFFERVESCENT

F for FRAGILE

G for GARGOYLE

H for HESSIAN

I for INKLING

J for JACKASS

K for KARMA

Then it jumps to:

X for XENOPHOBIA

Y for YURT

Z for ZANY

 

Now, I’m sure you’ll agree that those are some great prompts! I can already feel the creative cogs turning, and I’d love to get some more in there before the Challenge begins. So feel free to bombard me with any and all suggestions!

Good luck to everyone else who has decided to take up this challenge, and I’ll look forward to seeing what you can come up with!

April A-Z Challenge Accepted!

AJ.Dixon21 Comments

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Hi everyone ☺ I might be a bit late announcing this, but what the hell, here goes!
After seeing this last week and giving it some thought, I’ve decided to give this years “Blogging from A to Z Challenge” a go.
The idea is self-explanatory: bloggers are encouraged to post every day throughout April, excluding Sundays, and each day’s post will be related to a letter of the alphabet. Each day will follow the alphabet in order and will provide the prompt for that post. In short, I’ll be attempting to write 26 short stories next month! I’m going to limit these stories to between 500-1000 words. No pressure, or anything…
I feel like this will be a great way to test myself and see how well I will work under time restraints. I’m becoming quite fond of writing flash fiction, so this should be fun! 😄
If any of you fellow bloggers would like to join in, you can find all the information for the Challenge here: http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/?m=1
Grab the badge and post it on your blog, then follow their instructions to sign up. Simple! ☺ Wish me luck, and feel free to give me some ideas for specific letters!
P.S. I hope that’s not cheating…

Live a Little

AJ.Dixon16 Comments

I wrote this story for the lovely Jen over at Ink And Quill. She has very kindly featured me as her guest writer today, which is exciting! 🙂 She asked me to write a brand new story to be used as part of that post, and this is what I was able to come up with.

Please visit Ink and Quill for some wonderful poetry and inspiring guest writers and poets 🙂

https://jennifercalvertwriter.wordpress.com/

 

Live a Little

By Adam Dixon

 

I can still remember the night that I died; it’s seared into my mind like a cattle brand, white-hot and permanent. I can still hear the sound of my own laughter in my ears coupled with the cheers and encouragement of my friends. I can still feel the bitter wind tearing at my hair and clothes as I waved my arms above my head. I can still see the painted lines on the tarmac racing past in a blur of white. I’d never felt so alive, and I’d never been so reckless. It was all their fault.

The party had been a riot. A mutual friend had just joined us in the ranks of the over-25s and we four were still buzzing from it. Jen hadn’t wanted to leave, but Bradley had insisted. He never would back down once he’d got an idea into his head, and Jen never would resist him for long. I’d have happily gone home, myself. If only I’d said something, then maybe all this wouldn’t’ve happened. But I didn’t, and sometime after midnight myself, Jen and her older brother, Steve, all piled into Bradley’s car and set off down the motorway. We were laughing and joking, singing loudly and badly to whatever was on the radio and passing a bottle of vodka around. The familiar burn in my throat and the rush of alcohol to my head was as exhilarating as ever, and I soon got in the mood to find another party.

But it was then that I noticed how drunk Bradley was. He was blinking rapidly behind the wheel, grinning like an idiot and slurring his words whenever he spoke. He hadn’t seemed that bad before, but then again we hadn’t really been watching him. I’d told Jen to keep an eye on him, damn it! At one point Steve said something which made him laugh and he sent us careening across two lanes! The motorway was deserted, of course, but still…

After a while I asked Bradley to slow down. He wasn’t listening because Jen had her hand on his crotch and was whispering something to him as she caressed him through his jeans. Steve was being a nuisance; he seemed to think that because I was drunk I would be doing the same. I can still feel him nuzzling my neck as one hand clumsily pawed my breasts and the other slid up my skirt…I can still hear the ‘crack!’ as I slapped him, too. Christ, that was satisfying, and it succeeded in finally getting Bradey and Jen’s attention.

“Oi, what the hell are you playin’ at back there?” Bradley thundered, glaring at me via the rear-view mirror. Steve was stunned, rubbing his cheek and staring at the back of Jen’s seat.

“Oh, Lisa’s just bein’ a spoilsport, babe!” Jen mocked, rolling her decorated eyes and flicking her perfect hair. “Looks like she doesn’t wanna have some fun with Steve. Can’t blame her, really, he is an ugly bastard!”

“Oi!” Steve protested, still rubbing his cheek. He wasn’t that ugly, but drunk or not I didn’t appreciate him being so forward.

“C’mon, Lees!” Bradley said, annoyed. I hated it when he called me that! “What’s wrong with old Steve-O, anyway? C’mon, live a little, for fuck’s sake!”

“Shut up, Bradley,” I spat, but secretly I felt bad for hitting Steve. That was the effect that Bradley had on people: he was too bloody good at making you feel like the bad guy. The next few minutes consisted of Bradley and Jen laughing about how uncool I was and how much of a stick-in-the-mud I could be. I angrily disagreed with them, of course, but it really got under my skin. Steve didn’t say much, he just carried on sitting there looking like a kicked puppy. Maybe it was the drink, but I was suddenly determined to prove them wrong.

“I’m not boring, I can do anything you twats can!” I said after downing another mouthful of liquid fire.

“That so?” Bradley asked, still laughing. “I don’t believe you, Lees. Look, you’ve still got your bleedin’ seat-belt on for a start! Why can’t you live a little?”

“Fine!” I had practically ripped my seat-belt off at that remark. I immediately felt it was a bad idea, but I ignored the thought. Big mistake.

“Oooh, look at the balls on you, babe!” Jen had twisted round in her seat to flash a big, stupid grin at me. I felt like we were back in the school playground. “Betcha won’t do anything else though! Betcha wouldn’t lean out of the window while we’re movin’, would you? Nah, course not, you’re too much of a wimp!”

“Just watch me, bitch!” I said and moved towards my window. I remember clearly the struggle I had unwinding the stupid thing, and the memory comes to me in slow motion. It’s torture to recall it, to remember how I gripped the cold roof of the car with one arm as I leaned my torso out into the night. I even lifted my leg and rested my thigh on the thin glass so that I was more out of the car than inside. The wind buffeted me and tore a gasp from my lungs as I steadied myself. I remember squealing like a giddy child as I raised first one arm, then both into the air as my soul rejoiced at my freedom.

“You see me now, you arseholes!” I screeched at them, laughing deliriously. “I can fucking do anything!” They were laughing too and even Steve was cheering. It was fantastic. It was fatal. Leaning out of a car travelling at ninety miles per hour driven by an intoxicated monkey in a shirt has consequences. Nobody saw how close to the edge of the railings Bradley had gotten until it was far, far too late.

Now I’m trapped in a lonely existence on this barren stretch of asphalt, doomed to watch speeding cars and fester with impotent rage.

Live a little, they had said….

They all wear their seat-belts now.

 

 

Where Were You?

AJ.Dixon23 Comments

Today’s post is something of a milestone. It marks the 20th short story to be uploaded on to my blog! Well, technically it is the 16th, but due to a bit of a cock-up by yours truly it ended up being sent to the lovely Esther Newton and was first published on her blog on 29th January 2016. I had marked it for use in a flash fiction competition, but I was happy for Esther to use it and my mistake did make me laugh! But anyway, I’ve recently remembered that I didn’t post it on here so tonight I am doing just that. I hope you enjoy it if you haven’t read it already!

Also, please check out Esther’s blog! https://esthernewtonblog.wordpress.com/

 

Where Were You?

By Adam Dixon

 

“Hush, my darling,” Sylvia crooned, stroking his thick, curled hair as he sobbed into her chest. She and her fiancé had just finished making love, their bodies bathed in sweat and their mutual ecstasy fading. Seconds after its conclusion, Dion had gazed at Sylvia, his shining brown eyes filling with tears. She held him close, her heart aching at his sadness.

“I shan’t be gone for long, my love,” she whispered. “In fact, you will barely notice my absence. Doctor Jonas has assured me that I will return within hours of my departure.”

“But what if you don’t?” Dion’s head came up, and he fixed Sylvia with an imploring stare. “There are no guarantees with time travel, and you know it. Christ, Sylvie, you might not even make it back!”

“We both knew the risks when I accepted the mission, Dion,” Sylvia replied, her voice still gentle but with a stern edge. “We knew what could happen when the time came, and we were both prepared for it. Or at least, I thought we both were.” She gave him a reproachful look and cocked her head to one side. Long red hair spilled across her left shoulder and covered one of her breasts. Dion’s eyes followed her hair, and he reached out to tangle his fingers in it as he cupped her cheek.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that now it’s finally here…I don’t know…I can’t bear the thought of never seeing you again.”

“But you will, Dion,” Sylvia said earnestly, running her hand across his dark forearm. “A few hours we will be apart; a few days at most. We’ve endured longer periods than that!”

“True,” Dion smiled weakly, brushing the tears from his eyes. “I’m just worried about you, I suppose. I’m sure you’re right.”

“I am,” Sylvia said, winking at him. “Doctor Jonas has calculated every possible outcome to a minute detail. He is certain that I will return to this very house, and in this very room! Now, hush.” She pulled him close to her and they lay down on the double bed, drawing warmth from each other’s bodies. Dion nuzzled her neck as he got comfortable, and closed his eyes with a sigh. Sylvia gently played with his short, wiry hair, recognising that he would soon be asleep. Before he slipped off, he mumbled something.

“What was that, my love?” Sylvia turned her head to hear him.

“I’ll wait for you…” he said, almost asleep. “I love you, Sylvie.”

“I love you too,” Slyvia whispered, a lump in her throat. She lay in the darkness with Dion’s arms around her, listening to his breathing as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

***

Sylvia stepped out of the time capsule, the air crackling with the surge of quantum energy. The floorboards vibrated beneath her feet from the burst of power. She glanced around her and smiled. The doctor had been correct; she was in her old bedroom! It was night-time, so perhaps just a few hours on from her departure if her luck was in. A snort of surprise nearby caused her to turn around. She saw an elderly black man sitting in a chair across the dark room, his eyes agape.

“Oh, I do apologise!” Slyvia rushed over to the man, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It is rather startling, isn’t it? I was warned that there may be a temporal shift upon my return! I do hope it didn’t shock you too much! Are you alright, sir?” The man stared at Sylvia, his eyes wide with astonishment. Sylvia began to feel uncomfortable.

“Yes, erm,” she said, unsure what to say. “I wonder, who are you, sir? You see, I was expecting to surprise someone else entirely tonight!” She smiled at the old man, hoping he would say something. He did, and it chilled her to the bone.

“You’re back…” he rasped. “I waited…so long.” Tears filled his rheumy, brown eyes and recognition hit Sylvia like a slap in the face.

“Dion!?” She cried in disbelief. “Dion, is that you? It can’t be!”

“I waited for you…Sylvie,” Dion stroked her hand with his wrinkled fingers and wept. Sylvia stood dumbstruck, the horror of the situation creeping into her like a virus.

“Dion…” she stammered. “I…but how long…how?”

“Where were you?” Dion repeated between sobs. “It’s been forty years! Where were you?!”

The white-haired old man wailed into the night, and Sylvia’s heart broke at the sound of it.

 

The Elves’ Hot Chocolate

AJ.Dixon9 Comments

The Elves’ Hot Chocolate

By Adam Dixon

“Well, I’m glad that’s over!” Barry the elf exclaimed, slumping back into the padded seats and closing his eyes. His green pointed hat slid over his mousey fringe. The large red sleigh bucked as it sailed over the clouds, jerking him forwards with a yelp.
“Oi! Pay attention, Baz!” barked a gruff voice beside him. Gary rubbed his head and glared at Barry. “You knocked off my hat, you clumsy oaf! It’s gone right over the edge! What am I supposed to say to Mrs Claus when we get home?”
“Sorry, Gaz,” Barry said sheepishly. He took the reins in a firm grip and surveyed the night sky. It was still dark, although dawn was fast approaching and the horizon was beginning to brighten. The sleigh flew onwards, guided by a red glow from the lead reindeer which cut through the gloom. Barry checked the reins fastened to the nine animals and gave a satisfied nod; everything was secured and in working order.
“I can’t believe I’ve lost my hat,” grumbled Gary, smoothing his grey curls with irritation. “Five years I’ve had it, and it matched my coat perfectly. How will I find another one like it?”
“Oh, shut up about your silly hat, Gaz!” A third elf popped his bald head up from the back of the sleigh and frowned at Gary. “It made you look like a gnome, anyway!”
“A gnome?!” Gary spluttered. “Why, you…”
“Yes, yes,” The third elf dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Never mind that. How long ‘til we get home, Baz?”
“North Pole ETA one hour, Harry,” replied Barry, glancing at the Sat-Nav screen. “That’s as long as we don’t make any more unscheduled stops.” Barry and Harry both looked pointedly at Gary.
“Hmmph!” Gary folded his arms and sat down with a thump. “You could hardly expect me to hold it in until we’ve finished!”
“We could expect you not to have drank all that hot chocolate once we got started.” Barry replied with a grin. “You knew how long we’d be out here, but you still had almost the whole flask to yourself!”
“But it’s been freezing out here!” Gary protested.
“I didn’t get any of it,” Harry pointed out. “Didn’t want any, though. Hot chocolate’s what got us into this mess in the first place!”
“And I suppose that’s my fault as well!” Gary said sulkily.
“Nah, we’re all to blame for it,” said Harry, clambering over the back of the seat and plonking himself down next to Barry. “It was a great idea, but we should have been more careful.”
“We only wanted to make sure Santa had a proper rest before Christmas!” Barry said indignantly. “What’s so bad about that? The sleeping potion from Mrs Claus’s cupboard seemed like the best way to make sure he got a good night’s sleep!”
“Extra strength, though, wasn’t it?” Harry said, tweaking Barry’s nose playfully. “We didn’t read the label properly. Plus, Gaz can’t tell the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons!”
“Hmmph!” Was Gary’s reply.
“I expect the old man is still snoring away, even now!” chuckled Harry.
“Will he be angry with us, Gaz?” Barry asked, his brow creasing with worry. Gary fidgeted a little, and shrugged.
“Probably,” he said. “If we hadn’t pinched that potion, we wouldn’t’ve had to come out tonight and do his job. Serves us right, really, if he is angry. But at least it’s all done now.”
“I’ll say!” Harry giggled. “I’m pooped after all that! I don’t know how Santa manages it every year, all by himself, too! I must have fallen down more chimneys tonight than Gaz has had pee breaks!” He ducked down as Gary threw one of his shoes at him. Barry and Harry burst into fits of laughter as the shoe sailed over the edge of the sleigh, followed by Gary’s wail of frustration.
“You’re right, though,” Barry said, wiping a tear from his eye. “It makes you appreciate the effort he puts in every year. I just hope we did a good enough job.”
“Of course we did,” Gary said, peering over the edge of the sleigh with a forlorn look on his face. “We didn’t do it as well as the boss, obviously, but we still did it. That’s got to count for something.”
“Yep, that’s right, Gaz,” said Harry cheerfully, pulling his friends into a tight embrace. “We messed up, but we’ve done alright in the end, and no child will be without a present this Christmas.”
“We have missed something, though,” replied Barry, pulling away and taking up the reins again. Gary and Harry looked him, confused. A grin spread across Barry’s face.
“We’ve not said the words yet.” He said quietly, his eyes glittering.
“Oh…” Harry’s eyes grew wide. “Do you…think we should?”
“Those are his words, not ours,” muttered Gary doubtfully.
“Come on, fellas!” said Barry, laughing. “We’ve nicked his whole job tonight! We might as well do it properly!”
“True…” Harry grinned. “But we all need to do it. All of us or none!”
“What do you reckon, Gaz?” Barry asked. Gary paused, looking at the eager faces of his friends. His frown broke and he chuckled, shaking his head.
“Oh, all right then. It wouldn’t be Christmas without it!” He said, beaming. Barry and Harry cheered.
“Come on then! On three…one…two…three!”
The sleigh sped through the clouds towards the North Pole, and three joyous voices rang out into the night.
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Gemini

AJ.Dixon9 Comments

Note: This piece was awarded 2nd Place in Esther Newton’s Flash Fiction competition.

See link for details: https://esthernewtonblog.wordpress.com/flash-fiction-competition/

Gemini

By Adam Dixon

I think someone is watching me. Not ‘watching over’ me, but actually watching me. I get strange feelings whenever I am alone, usually an odd tickling sensation between my shoulder blades, as if someone is glaring at my back. There is nothing there, of course. Not physically, anyway.

When I am drifting from deep sleep towards wakefulness, I sometimes see a figure floating above me. In the split second before I start into full consciousness, I catch a glimpse of the figure. I am certain that it is a baby. A spectral new-born that hovers above me, gazing down at my resting body. In that second, I can see accusation and pain in those big, seemingly innocent eyes… I don’t think the ghost of my twin sister approves of me surviving her.

I wonder what her purpose is, watching me like this. It makes me anxious, and since childhood my insomnia hasn’t abated. Whenever my heavy eyelids close and I unwillingly succumb to the oblivion of sleep, I know that she will be there when I wake up. Watching. Waiting. According to our mother she had been holding on to me tightly in the womb right up until the end. She didn’t want to let me go…Read More »

Don’t Look

AJ.Dixon4 Comments

Don’t Look

By Adam Dixon

I can’t turn on the light. I just can’t. I simply cannot risk seeing it again. Everyone knows that they can’t get you if you don’t see them. I’ll wash my hands in the dark, that way I won’t have to look. She’s taken down the bin liner I taped over it this afternoon; next time I’ll use nails. She doesn’t understand, but how can she? I mean, why should a grown man have such an irrational, crippling fear? It doesn’t make sense. She hasn’t seen it, but I have. I know it’s there.

I step into the bathroom slowly, my bare feet losing warmth to the cold tiles. Three steps and I’m at the toilet. My business is shortly concluded, I flush and move towards the sink. My eyes are lowered. I know she’s taken it down, and I hate her for it. It is my only protection. I turn on the taps with shaking hands, the thrill of dread running up my spine. I keep my head down, concentrating. I’ve nearly caught myself looking a few time before, almost seeing something in the corner of my eye… I will not look up! Warm water and lavender-scented suds calm me somewhat, but my shoulder-blades itch. I know it is there. But I won’t look up. I won’t…

A cat screeches into the twilight on the street somewhere. Startled, I look up.

It’s there! I’ve looked into the mirror and I can see it behind me! My wide eyes are pale moons in the glass, and over my shoulder stands the shadowy figure of my nightmares. It is tall and its eyes are a match for mine. Its grin is rictus, its outstretched hand a claw. I open my mouth to scream, to wake her up. She’s only across the hallway! But it’s too late. The claw pierces my shoulder and the darkness swallows me.